


The Snake and the Raven

by PitchonthePitch



Series: The Snake and the Raven [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Adorable Morality | Patton Sanders, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is Bad at Feelings, Hopeful Ending, Jealous Deceit, Logic | Logan Sanders is Bad at Feelings, Logic | Logan Sanders-centric, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Sad, Snake Deceit Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, virgil's jacket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21830110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitchonthePitch/pseuds/PitchonthePitch
Summary: Virgil doesn't want to write a poem for class.  None of his friends will write it for him, leaving him to turn to the one person in their class he can't stand.Dee.Dee agrees to do the assignment for Virgil -- in exchange for one thing.  Virgil's jacket.It all goes downhill from there.
Relationships: Deceit Sanders/Virgil Sanders, Deceit/anxiety, Logan Sanders/Patton Sanders, Logic/Morality, Logicality, anxceit
Series: The Snake and the Raven [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612060
Comments: 6
Kudos: 144





	The Snake and the Raven

It started when Virgil asked Logan to do his English assignment for him. Logan was surprised at Virgil; he asked for help with homework sometimes, but he never outright asked for Logan to do his work for him. “The assignment is just to write a poem, Virgil. I’m sure you can manage it on your own.”

Virgil stared at him. “It’s a poem, Logan. I can’t write a poem. I’ve tried: everything I write is cliche or embarrassing.”

Ah, now he understood. Like him, Virgil didn’t have the best relationship with _feelings_ or _self-expression._ Logan appreciated poetry as a medium, but he still cringed at some of the more _sentimental_ works they read in class. But…

“I’m sorry, Virgil, but I can’t do the assignment for you. That would be cheating, and I’m not a cheater. Why don’t you ask Roman?”

Virgil sighed. “Fine, I’ll ask Princey.”

Roman, of course, was so offended that Virgil had asked Logan for help first that he refused to help him.

Patton would’ve said yes in a heartbeat, and that’s exactly why Virgil couldn’t ask him for help. He was already so busy, with student government and tennis team, not to mention his own classes. Virgil didn’t want to put more on his plate.

The problem was, that left exactly one person he could ask for help.

Dee examined his nails, looking totally disinterested. As usual. “I’d love to help you with your assignment, Virgil, but I am terribly busy. What’s in it for me?”

“What do you want?”

There was a glint in Dee’s eyes. “What are you offering?”

Virgil’s face was turning a lovely shade of red. “Knock it off, Dee. You always have an agenda. Just tell me what you want.”

Dee paused. He had an uncharacteristically thoughtful look on his face. “I’ll settle for your jacket.”

“My jacket?” Virgil crossed his arms, hugging the black jacket closer to himself.

“That’s right. I think it would quite suit me. What do you say, Virgil?”

Virgil sighed. His jaw clenched in the way it always did when he was anxious.

Dee caught the movement. He kept pushing. “Come on, Virge. It’s just a jacket. But if it means that much to you, then I’m sure you’ll have no problem doing the assignment yourself…”

Virgil gave. “Fine. You can have my stupid jacket -- _after_ you do the assignment for me. Deal?”

“It’s a deal.” Dee held out his hand.

Virgil eyed it like it was a bear trap. After a minute, he relented, and took it.

If he was expecting Dee to pull his arm off, he was sorely mistaken. Dee just… shook his hand. Gently. For a long time.

Virgil snatched his hand away, as if burned. “Okay. Whatever. Deal.” He stalked off, leaving Deceit standing in the middle of the hall.

Logan saw the scene from his locker. He closed it with a thud, thinking.

Interesting. The whole thing was very interesting.

A week later, Mr. Sanders passed back their poems. Logan got an A, of course. Roman got a B. Patton got an Incomplete and a gentle reminder from Mr. Sanders that, while a collage of his favorite kind of cats was certainly creative, it was not technically a poem. Dee also got an A.

Virgil got an A and something else: a request from Mr. Sanders. “Virgil,” he said, “I was especially touched by your poem. It was so… sentimental and emotional in a way I never would’ve expected from you. If you don’t mind, would you please read it out loud to the class?”

Virgil paled. “Um, I don’t--”

“You absolutely should read your poem to the class,” Dee cut in. He was wearing Virgil’s old jacket, as he had everyday since they’d handed in their poems. “Virgil’s very shy, Mr. Sanders, but I know how much hard work he put into this assignment. He deserves to have his work shared with people.”

Virgil was wearing a new jacket, a purple one with black patches that Patton had stitched for him in Home Ec. When Patton had asked why Dee was wearing Virgil’s jacket, Virgil had mumbled something about wanting to get a new one. He didn’t want Patton to know Dee had helped him with the assignment. This jacket had a large hoodie, perfect for Virgil to hide in when he was shy, or stressed, or overwhelmed -- all of which were feelings Virgil experienced on the regular. Now, he sunk deeper inside the hoodie and shot Dee a look that Mr. Sanders couldn’t see.

However, their teacher could see the way Virgil hunched in on himself, looking embarrassed. “Don’t be shy, Virgil,” Mr. Sanders offered, always one to encourage his students. “This is a very welcoming environment. Your classmate is right; you deserve to have your work shared with and appreciated by others.”

Dee smiled wider at Virgil. Virgil attempted to eviscerate him with his stare.

Roman jumped in, always one to play the knight in shining armor. “I can read the poem!”

“Sure,” Mr. Sanders said, looking pleased. “Virgil, if you’d be more comfortable with Roman reading your poem--”

Virgil eyed Roman gratefully. “Sure. That works. Thanks, Princey,” he added, in a softer voice.

Roman smiled at him, voice equally soft. “No problem, Brad Pittiful.”

Dee scowled. Though, as soon as he caught Logan looking at him, he dropped the scowl in favor of a blank stare. Had Logan not seen him scowling, he would’ve sworn he looked bored.

At the front of the room, Roman cleared his throat. With a sweep of his hand, he pushed his dark curls back; they bounced back into place exactly where they were before. Logan rolled his eyes. Roman’s hair didn’t even fall in his eyes, like Virgil’s did; he just swept it back to be extra. Continuing to be extra, Roman took a deep breath before he read:

I slither through the blades of grass  
and peer up through the branches  
of a tree in the  
hope I’ll catch  
sight of you.

Why did God condemn the snake to the ground  
and bless the bird with the sky?

And you;  
you are a raven,  
dark and clever and beautiful,  
and I am without  
wings, without  
legs, without  
you. Destined forever  
to love you  
from afar.

Wow. That was… something.

It didn’t have the technical prowess of Logan’s poem. (He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit miffed that Mr. Sanders hadn’t asked him to read his work out loud.)

But it was… adequate, he supposed. More than adequate. It was…

Logan didn’t know. He didn’t have the words for what that poem was.

Neither did Virgil, it seemed. While Roman was reading, he’d somehow found a way to recede even further into his hoodie. His face was bright red, a sharp contrast to his dark purple hoodie. Had he not read Dee’s poem before he turned it in?

“Wow,” Patton said, the only one of Virgil’s friends who didn’t know that Virgil was not, in fact, the writer of that poem. “Virgil, that was incredible. Who is it about?”

“Now, now, let’s not bombard the poet with questions,” Mr. Sanders said. “Roman, that was a wonderful reading. Virgil, once again, such a lovely poem. Thank you for sharing it with us.”

Virgil mumbled into his hoodie. Something like, “No problem.”

The rest of class went on as normal. The second the bell rang, Virgil was out of his seat.

Logan saw him dragging Dee somewhere by the sleeve of his new jacket. Virgil’s old jacket.

Interesting.

“Logan?” Patton was looking in the same direction as him, though he seemed less curious than Logan and more concerned. “Is Virgil okay?”

“Yeah, what’s up with him and Lies and Dolls?” Roman said.

“I don’t know,” Logan said. He was annoyed; he didn’t like not knowing things. “But I’m gonna find out. You guys go ahead.”

“You sure?” Roman said. He looked moderately interested; Roman was never one to miss out on drama. Then again, he was also never one to miss out on lunch.

“I’m sure,” Logan said. “I won’t be long.”

“I’ll grab an extra pudding for you,” Patton said. The cafeteria always ran out of pudding. Logan hadn’t even considered that he would miss out on pudding if he came to lunch late.

“Thanks, Patton,” he said. “That’s very considerate of you.”

Patton smiled at him, looking very pleased with the compliment.

After a minute, Roman huffed, grabbing Patton’s shoulder and dragging him along with him. Patton turned his head, shooting Logan another, more embarrassed smile as they left. Logan thought he heard Roman say something. Something like, “You’ll never be able to get him that pudding if you two spend the next period making googly eyes at each other.”

Logan shook his head, ripping his attention away from Patton and Roman. He turned and headed in the direction he’d seen Dee and Virgil going.

They were in an empty hall. Virgil had his hands pressed against Dee’s arms. His voice was trembling as he spoke. “Give it back.”

Dee’s voice was placid, as per usual. “Virgil, please--”

“No. The deal was that you write my paper for me, not that you push me into reading it in front of the entire class--”

“Technically, Roman read it.”

“No,” Virgil repeated. He was still hanging onto Dee, hands gripped into the material of the jacket. Logan was confused; Virgil seemed to love the new jacket Patton had given him. Did he really need the old one back? “You’re not talking your way out of this,” he said. “You embarrassed me in front of the entire class. Did you see the way everyone was looking at me?”

“Like you were a person, with feelings?” Dee drawled.

Virgil’s frown deepened. _“Yes._ And that’s not how I want people to see me.”

“Why?” The mirth was gone from Dee’s voice. He looked genuinely interested; it was a look Logan had never seen on him before.

 _“Because--”_ Virgil trailed off, like the answer should be obvious.

Logan understood. Feelings were… embarrassing, and pathetic. He certainly wanted no part of them.

“Didn’t your friend Patton make you that jacket?” Deceit asked. “Why would you want this old one back?”

Virgil tugged on the sleeves, like he could will the jacket off of Dee if he tried hard enough. “I just don’t want _you_ wearing it anymore. I don’t want people seeing it on you and asking me why you have it.”

“It’s just a jacket, Virgil.”

“No, it’s not! It’s not just a jacket, and you know it.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s… me! When people see that jacket, they think of me. You don’t just get to wear it like a second skin, you sn--” With a hiss, he cut himself off.

“What?” Dee was quiet. “Say it, Virgil.”

Virgil shook his head. The rest of him was shaking, too. He pulled away from Dee.

His face was burning. When he spoke, his voice was cold. “I don’t know what your game is, but I’m not buying it. Any of it. Keep the jacket. I don’t -- I don’t care. I don’t even care.”

Dee’s voice was so quiet, Logan could only tell that Virgil heard it because of the way he flinched. “Liar.”

Virgil stormed off. His dark hair flew out of his face, and for a moment, Logan could see it: the raven comparison. Virgil certainly looked like a raven just then, flying away from a predator.

Funny. Wasn’t it ravens that ate snakes?

Dee stared after him, looking hollow. Virgil disappeared from sight.

Dee turned and punched one of the lockers.

Okay, that was enough. Logan stepped out from where he’d been hiding. “Hurting yourself isn’t going to make you feel better.”

Dee whipped around, lacking his usual grace. He wiped a hand across his face, and Logan realized with a start that those were tears he was wiping away.

“Dee,” he said, a note of uncharacteristic concern in his voice. “I had no idea. You really care about him, don’t you?”

“Of course not,” he said, but the words rang hollow in light of what Logan just saw. Dee himself seemed to hear how weak the lie sounded. “If you say a word--”

“I won’t,” Logan promised. “But you should tell him how you feel. High school’s nearly over. If you think you’re loving him from afar now, just wait until you’re both at different colleges.”

“Do you think any of this is new information for me?” Dee sounded tired.

“I guess not,” Logan said. “But I thought you might need to hear it. I know I did.” He turned around in the same direction Virgil had left. He needed to get to lunch.

“Where are you going?”

He turned back to Dee, but he didn’t stop walking. He had no time to waste. “I’m going to go see my own raven. Well, I suppose Patton isn’t like a raven. Maybe a parrot. Or a bluejay; he’s always wearing blue.” He was rambling; he couldn’t help it. He was feeling nervous.

Ugh. Listen to him; _feeling._

“Good luck,” Dee called after him.

Logan turned back to him and offered a sympathetic look. “You, too.” Dee was hugging Virgil’s jacket closely to himself when Logan turned back around and headed off.

Logan would have to do something about that. Virgil deserved to be happy; even if he didn’t believe it himself. And Dee…

Maybe Dee wasn’t as bad as they all thought he was.


End file.
